Knights Consort
by Cyclone
Summary: There's more to love than who you're attracted to. In fact, sometimes, that just gets in the way.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Knights Consort (1/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link. Plus, archived at u/62966 or ~cyclone

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: There's more to love than sexual attraction. In fact, sometimes, it just gets in the way.

Author's Note: Nothing much to say here.

* * *

I watch them dance.

Willow's on drink duty right now - not to mention trying to get Buffy out of her funk - leaving me to watch them dance. They look like they walked right out of a fairy tale.

Okay, granted, it would be a fairy tale closer to Grimm than Disney, but the point stands.

We live in a world of fairy tales. Every little kid knows that monsters exist, but fairy tales teach them that monsters can be slain. And then we grow up, and we forget that fairy tales are real, that monsters are real and need to be slain.

But until then, every little kid dreams of a monster and a princess and a dashing knight coming to slay the monster, save the princess, and sweep her off her feet. A lot of people never really grow out of that, even as they forget that the monsters are real. The difference is, a typical little girl wants to be the princess, while a typical little boy wants to be the dashing knight.

I was never a typical little girl. Since I was little, around five years old, I wanted to _be_ the hero, not be rescued by one. I didn't want to be a princess. I didn't want some dashing knight to come sweep me off my feet. If anyone was getting swept off her feet, I wanted to be the one doing the sweeping.

Nowadays? Now, I'm living my dream. I _am_ a hero, superpowers and all, and I slay the monsters, though princesses are hard to find these days. But not before I met the dashing knight I never wanted.

This is all so goddamn confusing! Don't get me wrong - I love Willow, and nothing's going to change that - but...

...but how do you deal with someone who saves your life, gives up an eye for you, and then insists on acting like it doesn't matter?

There are times I want to strangle that man. Not literally, of course, but he can be so frustrating! And it's not like I can just take a break, get away from him, and sort this all out.

Why not?

Well, where he goes, Willow and I go. Willow because, well, he's her Xander, and she's his Willow, and that's that. I get that.

I do! I'm _not_ jealous.

But me? That's a bit harder to explain. Everyone thinks I go because of Willow, but that's not exactly true. You see, he keeps volunteering for all these Slayer meet-and-greets, and I have to keep an eye on him because...

Well, I've seen him fight. He has a bad habit of trying to get himself killed. And if there's even a _hint_ of something hinky going on, he'll go off-mission to Do The Right Thing. Which invariably translates to an incredibly elaborate and convoluted attempt at suicide-by-demon.

Still, this new thing he's got going with Dawn, maybe he'll finally settle down, take a desk job for once, get out of the line of fire. I'm glad.

Really. I am.

I mean, he deserves a little happiness, and I owe him a lot. My life, his eye, my Willow... well, _his_ Willow, really...

No, I'm _not_ jealous.

He doesn't see it that way, that I owe him, but I do, and I can't help feeling...

Something. Grateful? Yeah. Grateful. We'll go with that.

* * *

Author's Postscript:

Yes, I went there.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Knights Consort (2/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: There's more to love than sexual attraction. In fact, sometimes, it just gets in the way.

Author's Note: Nothing much to say here.

* * *

I broke up with Willow.

I didn't want to, and God knows it's not because I don't love her.

It's because she doesn't love me.

No matter how much I love her, no matter how hard she tries, I am and will always be Rebound Girl.

And that's why me and her - us - just wasn't going to work. She was trying, so hard, but we were still drifting apart. I could feel her slipping through my fingers, and it was killing me.

She wouldn't end it. She _couldn't_ end it. She was so desperate to make us work, and not just because of me either. Because of Xander too.

More specifically, his eye. For all her bookishness, Willow's a very emotional person, and there's an irrational part of her that feels guilty, that thinks him losing his eye was less because he was saving me and more because he was saving _us_, and she didn't want him to have made that sacrifice in vain.

So I had to do it, or we'd keep clinging to each other, trying to build a house on sand, until the whole thing collapsed. Until she resented it. Until she hated me.

Until she hated both of us.

I don't think I could live with that, and I _know_ Xander couldn't.

He went to her, of course - which hurts, since it's my heart getting broken - but I think he understands.

Hmm. Someone's knocking on my door. Better go see who that is.

"Dawn?" Not who I was expecting. I wasn't sure _who_ I was expecting, actually, but it wasn't her.

"Hey," she says. "Just checking to see how you're doing."

"I'm fine," I lie.

"Bullshit," she snorts.

I don't respond.

"I get why you did it," she says gently. "I understand a hell of a lot better than you think I do. We know you're hurting right now, and he - we - don't want you to be alone right now. Xander can't be here, so here I am."

Huh. Didn't think the happy couple would think of me. After all, I may be a Sunnydale Survivor, but I'm still not an Original Scoob.

Shows what I know.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Knights Consort (3/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: There's more to love than sexual attraction. In fact, sometimes, it just gets in the way.

Author's Note: Nothing much to say here.

* * *

I am an idiot.

I am a complete and utter idiot.

So we get a ping on the global Slaydar in our area; that means we've got another meet-and-greet to do. No one needs to say anything; we all know the routine. Xander goes, of course. As I've said before, he always does.

And me? I go with him. It's as natural as breathing these days.

I'm already packed, out the back door, and circling around to the front where the car is before it hits me. And it's not so much that it hits me as that I'm now looking at Willow standing by the car with Xander. All packed up and ready to go.

Shit.

I bite my lip and take a half-step back, but it's too late. They've already seen me. I can't meet Willow's gaze - it's too soon - but Xander gives me a look. A flash of... something crosses his face, then he finishes putting his pack in the trunk and gently takes Willow aside, leading her back into the building through the front door.

I'm left staring after them dumbly for what feels like half an hour but can't be more than a few minutes before Xander emerges again. Alone.

"You gonna put that in the car or what, Kenn Doll?"

I blink.

"Uh, sure," I mumble, hefting my duffel bag and placing it in the trunk.

We take a few minutes to double check and make sure we didn't forget anything, then head out with him driving. We're on the highway before he breaks the silence.

"You know," he says, "just because you and Willow went down in flames doesn't mean that's it for us too."

I scowl.

"Two things," I point out. "One, we didn't 'go down in flames,' Xander. I let her go. Two, since when was there an 'us'?"

He shrugs. "Depending on who you ask, days or months."

"I don't see anyone else around, so I must be asking you."

"The minute you started dating Willow." Wow. Not a bit of hesitation there.

I shake my head, amused. "You know, you saying things like that is why those rumors started to begin with."

The rumors being that the three of us - me, Willow, and Xander - are in some sort of polyamorous relationship. Well, were.

"Actually I think your comment of 'you're both mine' is what started it, Kenn Doll," he retaliates. "Remember that first Christmas party?"

I flush. Truth is, I don't, but there's video evidence. "I was drunk, so that can't be held against me," I answer defiantly.

He laughs, and after a moment, I join him.

This is nice.

And I can't get over the fact that he chose me over Willow.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Knights Consort (4/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: There's more to love than sexual attraction. In fact, sometimes, it just gets in the way.

Author's Note: Nothing much to say here.

* * *

That moron!

That complete and utter, pig-headed moron!

I mentioned before why I always go with Xander, his apparently incurable habit of trying to get himself killed in the line of duty.

It's not really a martyr complex, despite what it sounds like. He's not _trying_ to suffer or die doing something meaningful. He just places so little value on his own life that I want to beat his head in with a spoon sometimes.

All right, some background here. When Willow cast the spell to call all Slayers, it didn't actually affect _every_ Potential. It asked each of us a single a question: "Are you ready to be strong?"

Not everyone said "yes."

We're not sure how many answered "no," but it's definitely a significant number. After that mass calling, the spell seems to have tweaked how the whole Slayer calling thing works.

Sometimes, a girl who said "no" changes her mind, thinks back to that question, and gives a different answer. That's how most of the meet-and-greets go.

But occasionally, a girl who said "no" gets called whether she likes it or not. Because she's needed. Because something big - something apocalyptic - is going down nearby, and there isn't an active Slayer around. When that happens, the girl who said "no" is basically told to shut up, quit whining, and slay, usually with a rather graphic vision to help her along. And we're always praying it isn't this or that we at least get there in time. Those meet-and-greets are never fun.

That's how Eleanor got called.

It shouldn't have been anything special. Another vampire apocalypse cult summoning a major demon to make a meal out of a small town. It should have been simple. It should have been easy.

As you might imagine, it wasn't, or I wouldn't be here, in the hospital, waking for him to wake up. I'd gotten a bit banged up too, but hey, Slayer healing.

"You stupid idiot," I hiss angrily. I'm _not_ crying, damn it. "I'm a Slayer. I can _take_ that kind of hit."

One of the vamps had gotten the drop on me, but Xander had my back, as always. Now, a piece of lead pipe to the noggin will knock even a Slayer for a loop, but give us a few minutes, and we're back in fighting trim. Xander, on the other hand... well, I won't say he's a normal human. I've heard the stories, after all: hyena possession, Russian shark-man SEAL killer gene mods, troll god hammer to the head. No, he's definitely not normal, but he's still within normal human limits. A piece of lead pipe to the noggin to him...

"Don't you dare die on me, Harris."

I can hear the some chatter from down at the nurse's station. Slayer hearing is such a lovely...

Excuse me. It seems I need correct some misconceptions.

I get up and storm out of Xander's room, making a beeline for the nurse's station. I slam my fist on the counter. Not Slayer hard, but hard enough to get their attention.

"One, I did not hit him," I growl. "Two, he did not hit me. Three, he, in fact, saved my life. Four, if he doesn't wake up, I _will_ hold you responsible. Personally."

They're staring at me, wide-eyed. Hmm. I think I'm forgetting something. Oh, that's right.

"Five, he is _not_ my boyfriend."

Had it been any other time, I would have stuck around to enjoy the looks they were giving me, but instead, I just turned my back on them, ignored them, and stalked back to Xander's bedside.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Knights Consort (5/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: There's more to love than sexual attraction. In fact, sometimes, it just gets in the way.

Author's Note: Nothing much to say here.

* * *

Why does everyone we meet think we're dating?

I can understand with the meet-and-greets and when we have to link up with the local demon hunters, but seriously, Summers should know better. Especially since it's her own sister who's the one dating him, not me.

She came by to check on Xander. Technically, she's retired, and after eight or nine years, I wouldn't blame her if she actually did. In practice, she's more of a freelance consultant, a mobile asset who picks and chooses where she goes.

In this case, to check on her Xander-shaped friend. Who, thankfully, bump to head aside, is still mostly Xander-shaped.

I'll deny it to the end of days - the real one, not the regularly scheduled spring fiascos - but Summers terrifies me. She's insanely strong, even for a Slayer, and she can switch gears from the air-headed SoCal ditz to General Buffy in the blink of an eye.

The docs expect Xander to make a full recovery. In fact, they expressed some disbelief at how quickly he was recovering. Of course, he's Xander, so that's answer enough for me.

Summers expressed some doubt, and it was all I could do to not yell at her.

She's just like the other Original Scoobs in that sense. To a one, they all have this massive blind spot when it comes to Xander. They always refer to him as the normal one, and... I just don't get it. After everything he's been through, the things that have changed him, how can they call him normal? "Normal" would have run screaming for the hills if only a _tenth_ of the stories I've heard from their own mouths were true.

Never mind the residual effects from multiple possessions and all those mystical energies he grew up with. Even Willow - the one who _told_ me about how that sort of thing causes permanent changes - just can't seem to grasp how it applies to Xander.

Still, aside from that bit of frustration, Summers's visit went well. Until she just _had_ to make that little comment as she left about giving us "some alone time."

Seriously, Summers? He's dating your sister. I'm his best friend's ex-girlfriend.

And I'm a lesbian.

How can this _possibly_ seem like a good idea?

Yeah. Seriously. Bad idea all around.

She was probably just teasing me, wasn't she?


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Knights Consort (6/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: There's more to love than sexual attraction. In fact, sometimes, it just gets in the way.

Author's Note: Nothing much to say here.

* * *

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Okay. I probably could have led off with something a little less confrontational, but...

"You should know," Dawn answers.

That stops me short. "Huh?"

"When you broke up with Willow," she clarifies, "you did it for the exact same reason. When I told you I understood, I wasn't exaggerating. I thought..." she pauses, a hitch in her throat, "I really thought we could make it work, you know. It was different for me than you. You were just coming into Willow's life after she lost Tara, but I've known Xander for years before Anya died, since before he even met her. Well, sort of. Never mind."

There's a story there, something the Original Scoobs are in on, but that's not important right now. "So you're letting him go."

She nods. "Sometimes, I feel like I was made to love him." She gives me an unsettling look. "The real question tonight is, why do you care this much?"

What? "What?" That came out left field.

"Don't play dumb with me, Kennedy."

"I'm not playing dumb," I growl, some of my righteous indignation bleeding over into annoyance. "He's Xander. He saved my life."

"He's saved _all_ our lives," she points out.

Stupid facts. I rally quickly.

"Yeah, but he lost an eye saving mine. I gotta watch out for him."

Dawn sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. It's a motion I'm well-acquainted with. When Xander's involved, I often use it myself.

"Do you really think we're the only ones who love him, one way or another?" she asks finally.

What does that have to do with anything? "I don't-"

"Ask yourself this, Kennedy: Why are you the only one storming my room on his behalf?"

"I-..."

I don't have an answer to that.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Knights Consort (7/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: There's more to love than sexual attraction. In fact, sometimes, sexual attraction just gets in the way.

Author's Note: Nothing much to say here.

* * *

Xander's in a funk - no surprise, what with Dawn breaking up with him - which is why I hauled him here to a local family fun center. I figure some simple, family-friendly fun and games'll help.

Well, okay, there's also the teensy tiny fact that, of the places we haven't been banned from, this is the only one that isn't regularly swarming with Slayers.

Well, okay, we _could_ go to the local demon bar, but that's work.

We split a pizza and check out the games. Xander's rocking the pinball, but I don't do so well. Pesky Slayer strength means I keep setting off the tilt alert.

With my eye on a giant plushie of Snoopy - seriously, it's about three feet tall sitting down - I drag Xander to the skee-ball lanes.

I sense some cheating going on. A guy with one eye shouldn't be kicking my ass at skee-ball of all things.

Still, we're having fun, and it's not long before we have a whole pile of prize tickets, plenty enough for the Snoopy plushie and a lot more besides. It's around the second time they have to refill the prize ticket dispenser for skee-ball that they ask us to cash our prizes and leave.

Kids are glaring at us as we walk out. I grin back and clutch the big Snoopy to my chest just a little tighter. Hate on, little haters. Hate on.

We get back to the compound in companionable silence, and we're about to part ways for our respective rooms when he speaks up.

"We'll have to do this again some time."

"Don't know if they'll let us back in," I point out with an amused grin.

"Not that," he says, waving one hand in the vague direction of the fun center. "This. Hanging out."

"Oh." I ponder that. "Well, there's a new movie I've been wanting to see coming out this weekend. How's Friday at seven sound?"

"It's a date," he says, turning and heading back to his room.

Wait, what?


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Knights Consort (8/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: There's more to love than sexual attraction. In fact, sometimes, sexual attraction just gets in the way.

Author's Note: Nothing much to say here.

* * *

This is not a date. Xander was just joking.

While there's no doubt about the latter, the butterflies in my stomach disagree on the former. I find the very presence of butterflies in my stomach both alarming and offensive, as I'm not in the habit of swallowing insects.

Probably something demonic involved. I should probably get that checked out. Later.

Dawn's voice comes to mind: "Why are you the only one storming my room on his behalf?"

Shut up, Dawn.

Still, need to get ready for the not-date. Not a date, so... no need to get dressed up. Quick shower, jeans, tee, nothing special.

Now, it's off to the movies.

* * *

The movie was good. I think. It was a little hard to concentrate, with Dawn's question bouncing around in my head.

I still don't have an answer.

We're back at the compound when he turns and catches my shoulder.

"Kennedy."

Okay, stop that, heart. You're not supposed to race like that when he says my name. It's... unprofessional.

"Yeah, Xand?"

"Whatever's bothering you," he says, "you know you can always talk to me, right?"

I can feel my cheeks heating up. I wasn't _that_ obvious, was I?

"It's nothing."

"Uh huh," he says, his eye searching mine. "Right. Well, good night, Kenn Doll."

And there it is again. That little spark that makes me want to grab him and kiss him and... and... and...

Huh. And nothing.

Great. Just great. I'm having... feelings... for someone I'm not even attracted to. How the _hell_ does that happen?


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Knights Consort (9/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: There's more to love than sexual attraction. In fact, sometimes, sexual attraction just gets in the way.

Author's Note: Nothing much to say here.

* * *

I'm eating breakfast with Faith, nursing a mug of coffee, as I try to sort out the current... situation. Faith Lehane. Now _there's_ someone who's easy on the eyes, and there's nothing quite like a bad girl to get the imagination going.

She's sex and naughtiness all wrapped up in a hot, leather-clad package.

"So," she says, "when are you gonna get yourself some Xander-lovin'?"

I nearly choke on my coffee.

I need to stop drinking the stuff. It seems like every time I have a cup, someone tries to kill me with it by talking.

"Just take it easy. Even back then he was always a bit... eager."

I am not blushing. I'm _not_ blushing.

No, really. I'm not. I'm too busy staring at her to blush.

"Oh, come on. Don't try and tell me he doesn't get your motor running."

I sigh. "That's just it. He doesn't."

"What? Seriously?" Well, what do you know? She _can_ be surprised.

"Seriously. As much as I... care for him..."

She coughs pointedly.

I roll my eyes. "All right, fine, as much as I love him, he _doesn't_ get me excited, not that way." I slump back. "I'm in love with someone who's got the wrong body parts to turn me on. How screwed up is that?"

"Well, try looking at it from a different angle. Maybe he does have some of the right body parts, just with a few extras you could do without."

Coffee was a deadly weapon, yes, but now... hypothetically speaking, how would one go about killing the second senior Slayer with my coffee cup?

Her comments are _not_ helping.

"I'm serious," she says. "Think about him, piece by piece. What you find might surprise you."

I think about that. Worth a shot.

So, Xander. That messy mop of hair of his. His eye: warm and inviting... and silently forgiving the loss of its mate; it would make my heart melt if a part of me didn't still feel guilty. His mouth: his lips look quite kissable, and his tongue? God, the things I've heard about his tongue send shivers down my spine.

Hands: strong, work-hardened, yet soft. Sometimes, he'd massage my shoulders, my neck, or even my feet, and it was like the stress would just vanish. Of course, then he'd do something like tickle me, but that's something else entirely. The rest of his body was... strong, but it also had scars: reminders of close shaves, of poor decisions made, of lessons learned.

"Wow, girl, you've got it bad if you haven't gotten to his dick yet after this long."

I blink.

"His what?"

Faith stares at me. "You have _got_ to get laid."

"You offering?"

What can I say? She's hot. She's currently single. She swings both ways. And did I mention she's hot?


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Knights Consort (10/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: There's more to love than sexual attraction. In fact, sometimes, sexual attraction just gets in the way.

Author's Note: Nothing much to say here.

* * *

As it turns out, I was wrong. Faith only drives stick. Not that you could tell, given the rep she's built herself. Still, she let me down easy.

Which is a shame. 'Cause she's hot.

Still, she left me with some serious thinking to do. She got me to put into words what I wasn't willing to admit: I love Xander, and definitely not in a platonic way. I'm not entirely sure in _what_ way, to be honest. The problem remains that I was also right. I'm not attracted to him.

Though I am a little curious about those stories I've heard about his tongue - shy, Anya was not - that's about the full extent of my sexual interest in him.

I've come to the conclusion that I have four options for dealing with this... this _thing_ between me and Xander. Whatever it is.

Option one: Leave. Get away from him. Take an assignment in Siberia or something. Problem is, who's going to watch over him and keep him from getting himself killed if not me?

Option two: Get someone to do a mind whammy on me so I stop feeling like this about him. Definitely not my first choice, and who could I trust with this, anyway? The only one I'd trust is Willow, and she'd be a bad choice for... well, obvious reasons.

Option three: Turn Xander into a woman, either through magic or surgery. I'm... kind of partial to this idea, actually, but I'm pretty sure he'd object. Rather strenuously, at that.

Option four: Well... you'd be surprised how many recipes there are for love potions, ranging from mild attraction to lust on sight to eternal love slave. It shouldn't be too hard for me to find the right one, mix it up, and drink it.

Hey, I never said they were _good_ options.

I wish I knew what to do.


	11. Chapter 11

Title: Knights Consort (11/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: There's more to love than sexual attraction. In fact, sometimes, sexual attraction just gets in the way.

Author's Note: Nothing much to say here.

* * *

Figuring out which potion to use was a pain and a half. Most potions are sight-based: drink it, and the next person you see becomes the target of your affections.

No way was I going to tempt Murphy like that.

A surprising number of them are actually relatively innocuous, just a slight attraction enhancer, arguably no worse than beer goggles. Those with more noticeable effects tend to be only short term: a brief spike of lust, a touch of obsession, an aphrodisiac, and a warning to be _very_ far away from your temporary paramour the next morning, all in one convenient recipe. Essentially, a magical date rape drug.

I was half-tempted to mix up one of the life long love slave potions. It would be so much easier if...

Yeah, like I said, _not_ going to tempt Murphy.

In the end, the one I decided on should do the trick. It's a subtle one, not precisely a love potion. If I've read everything right, what it should do is alter my image of an ideal lover to match whoever's hair I use to brew it. The recipe even has a warning that it doesn't induce love, just lust. It also warns that it smells pretty distinctive, but since I'm not planning on slipping it to someone else, that's not a problem.

Perfect.

Mixing it up proved to be a hell of a lot easier than deciding which one to use. I was just about finished, letting it simmer on the little electric hot plate in my room, when someone bursts through the door, axe in hand.

I blink. And stare.

"Xander?"


	12. Chapter 12

Title: Knights Consort (12/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: There's more to love than sexual attraction. In fact, sometimes, sexual attraction just gets in the way.

Author's Note: Nothing much to say here.

* * *

"I recognized the smell," Xander says quietly. "Love potions are never good, and, well, tracing the smell to your room, a guy comes to certain conclusions."

"Oh." Well, that explains why he came barging into my room with an axe.

"What the hell were you planning on doing with a love potion anyway, Kenn Doll?"

"I was planning on drinking it," I answer honestly, hugging my giant Snoopy.

He stares at me, clearly not sure if he heard correctly. "For God's sake, _why?_"

I look away. "Because of you, you doofus. I..." I trail off and take a moment to collect my wits. Bracing myself, I meet his gaze. "I love you, Xander."

There. I finally said it.

He stares at me, a thoroughly confused look on his face, and I'm pretty sure I know why.

"But... I thought you were into the fairer sex."

Yep. Called it.

"I was," I say simply. "I am."

"But-"

"That's the problem!" I snap at him. "I'm in love with you, but I'm _not_ attracted to you! Magic can't mess with love, not really, but lust? Lust is easy."

"So you were planning on _drugging_ yourself?!"

Okay, when he puts it that way, it does sound pretty bad.

"It wouldn't actually change how I feel about you," I argue stubbornly, "just how... I can... _express_ how I feel."

Yeah, that sounded lame to me too.

He doesn't respond for a long moment.

"Would it help if I had a twin sister?"

No. "Yes."

And now I'm falling into that eye of his.

"Liar." I don't deny the accusation. "Would it be better if I was a girl?"

"...maybe," I admit, breaking eye contact again. "I figured you'd be too attached to your junk to-"

"I am. Very much with the junk attachment here. So that and the drugs are out. What's left?"

I wish he'd stop calling it drugs.

I shrug. "Mind whammy; probably wouldn't work, and who could we trust to do it? Siberia."

"'Siberia'? What's in Siberia?"

"Not you. Just... get away from you, but I can't just leave. You need someone watching your back."

"Excuse me? _I_ need someone watching _my_ back? What about-"

"You're so busy watching everyone else's, you forget to watch your own," I interrupt, giving him what my parents call my Mule Face, practically daring him to argue.

I can be stubborn too.

He gives me his own version of it, before shaking his head and chuckling. "God, Kenn Doll, I can't believe Will took the time to teach you her Resolve Face."

Huh? I blink. "Huh?"

He gives me a surprised look. Sometimes, with all he's seen, I wonder if anything truly surprises him anymore. I've seen him startled a lot, yes, even shocked, but rarely the naked surprise I see on his face now, like I've just hit him with something he not only never saw coming but never even considered possible.

What's that all about?

He shakes it off and changes the subject. "Tell me, Kenn Doll," he asks, "what would you have done if you drank this, and I'd said 'no'?"

I bite my lip and hug Snoopy tighter. It's a thought I've avoided thinking about, a possibility I've been dreading, but in the end... "At least then, I'd be back on familiar ground. You confuse me, Xander Harris. You make everything... complicated."

The room falls into silence at that point, neither of us really knowing what to say next.

Oh, screw it.

I reach over, grab his shirt, and pull his lips to mine.


	13. Chapter 13

Title: Knights Consort (13/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link. Plus, archived at u/62966 or ~cyclone

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: There's more to love than sexual attraction. In fact, sometimes, sexual attraction just gets in the way.

Author's Note: Nothing much to say here.

* * *

Well, this is a very pleasant surprise.

I like kissing Xander.

Kissing is an interesting experience; everyone kisses a little bit differently. Kissing Willow made me feel wanted - _needed_ \- but kissing Xander makes me feel...

Loved.

After a moment, I pull back, searching his face uncertainly.

"Why me?" he asks quietly.

I womanfully resist the urge to smack him upside the head.

Instead, I reach up.

My hand's trembling. Stop that, hand.

Cupping my hand on his cheek, I stroke the bottom of his eyepatch with my thumb.

"You know why."

He grabs my wrist. "You know I'd do that for any of you."

"I know that, doofus," I snort, shaking my head. I look away. "It's _because_ you're the kind of person who would."

I feel his hand on my chin as he gently turns my head back to face him.

"So," I say, breaking the awkward silence, "where do we go from here?"

He seems to flinch at the question - I wonder why? - and pulls away. "We start by fixing your door."

I give him my best death glare, but death glares lose a lot of effectiveness when he isn't looking at me. Damn it.

"Stop glaring at me behind my back."

...

How does he _do_ that?


End file.
